


Never Accept Gifts From An Arsonist

by KuriKuri



Series: Sterek Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Arson, M/M, Neighbors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 07:26:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2539349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/pseuds/KuriKuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I mean, dude, the fire alarm’s going off and you stroll out of the building reading – what is that? <em>Balto?</em>” Hot Neighbor Guy continues, flailing a little as he gestures to the book in Derek’s hand. “This is not a middle school fire drill!”</p><p>“You’re new here,” is Derek’s highly intelligent answer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Accept Gifts From An Arsonist

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://authorkurikuri.tumblr.com/post/100876796285/sterek-au-the-fire-alarm-went-off-at-3-am-and-now-the) on tumblr, for the prompt: The fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear...
> 
> Trigger Warnings: arson

The fire alarm goes off.

Derek groans and rolls over in bed, checking his clock. It’s three am. He lies there for a few moments before letting out a sigh and reluctantly removing himself from his cocoon. Languidly, he stops to pull a shirt and sweatshirt on over his head. He debates whether he should put on his slippers or his boots, but in the end, the blaring of the fire alarm is too annoying for him to bother with laces. He putters on through his kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter before making a detour to the living room and grabbing his book and reading glasses.

Then he exits his apartment and saunters on down the stairs, once again lamenting the fact that he’s not supposed to use the elevator when the fire alarm’s been triggered.

When he finally gets out into the warm night air, he makes sure to give Kate Argent, Worst Neighbor in Existence and Starter of Monthly Fires, his most vehement glare. She looks inordinately pleased with herself. Really, he should have been prepared for this when he saw her carrying a bag of groceries earlier. He still can’t tell if she’s actually that bad of a cook or if she’s just using ‘accidental kitchen fires’ as an excuse for arson.

“Oh my god, do you have a death wish?” an unfamiliar voice yells, breaking Derek out of his glaring contest.

Derek turns to tell the person off, but once he lays eyes on them, his words get caught in his throat.

Fuck, it’s his (very hot) new neighbor. And he’s standing around in nothing but a pair of boxers. For a moment, Derek almost wants to thank Kate for setting off the smoke detector.

“I mean, dude, the fire alarm’s going off and you stroll out of the building reading – what is that? _Balto?_ ” Hot Neighbor Guy continues, flailing a little as he gestures to the book in Derek’s hand. “This is not a middle school fire drill!”

“You’re new here,” is Derek’s highly intelligent answer.

Hot Neighbor Guy stares at him, mouth hanging open as he looks at Derek incredulously. He has a very nice mouth.

“ _That’s_ what you took away from that?” the guy asks, still gaping at Derek.

Derek misses most of what he says, eyes instead drawn to HNG’s bare chest, nipples pebbled as he shivers a little bit. It is a bit on the chilly side tonight.

Derek takes off his sweatshirt.

“And now he’s stripping,” HNG mutters, his tone annoyed, but Derek can’t help but notice a slight hitch in his voice as the sweatshirt clings to Derek’s henley and makes it ride up a little bit.

“Here,” Derek says, holding out the maroon sweatshirt.

“What?” the guy asks, giving him a confused look.

“You’re shivering,” Derek clarifies, looking at HNG’s bare chest pointedly (and totally not in a creepy way).

“Oh,” Hot Neighbor Guy replies, blushing a little and tentatively taking the sweatshirt. “Uh, thanks.”

Derek shrugs, but doesn’t reply verbally. He tries not to think too hard about how his hot neighbor is, now wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and a pair of soft looking boxers.

It’s going to be a long night. Or morning. Whatever.

—-

The next time the fire alarm goes off is about two weeks later. Derek’s prepared this time, because he saw Kate lugging a huge jug of canola oil into her apartment a couple of hours prior, which made him at least a little worried about actual fires.

Hot Neighbor Guy, on the other hand, doesn’t seem nearly as prepared.

Derek’s fully aware that he’s staring, but how else is he supposed to react when he strolls out of the building to find Hot Neighbor Guy standing on the sidewalk with dripping wet hair and nothing but a fluffy purple towel around his waist. He does his best not to let his eyes follow the water droplets sliding over HNG’s chest, but it’s a pretty difficult.

“Is this, like, a regular occurrence?” HNG says, and it takes Derek a moment to realize that he’s the one being addressed. “Should I upgrade my fire insurance?”

“Kate Argent in apartment 328 sets off the fire alarm at least once a month,” Derek replies, shrugging. “You get used to it.”

“So this is a regular occurrence,” HNG repeats, his tone incredulous as he crosses his arms over his chest. Derek wants to offer him an article of clothing again, but there’s nothing he can remove at the moment without making things awkward for himself.

“Like I said, you get used to it,” Derek replies, pausing momentarily as he feels a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He turns to find Kate Argent staring at him. He glares right back.

“Then do you have any, you know, tips or whatever so that, uh, _this_ – ” HNG gestures to his state of undress. “ – doesn’t happen again?”

Derek really wouldn’t be opposed to ‘this’ happening again, but that’s probably not an appropriate response if he doesn’t want to get kicked in the balls for sexual harassment.

“Be prepared for an alarm if you see her carrying grocery bags,” Derek replies, shuffling awkwardly because Kate’s still staring at him. “Also, she never cooks at normal mealtimes, so try to shower then.”

“Cool. Thanks,” HNG says, biting his lower lip and peering up at Derek with big whiskey-brown eyes.

Derek grunts, but doesn’t say anything else, letting silence fall over them.

“Sorry, this must be awkward for you,” HNG continues, his tone apologetic, holding his arms against his chest a little more tightly.

“I highly doubt it’s as awkward for me as it is for you,” Derek snorts, although he doesn’t bother denying the fact that he is, in fact, feeling awkward.

“I guess,” HNG laughs, and Derek feels his heart skip a beat at the sound. “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

“Derek,” Derek replies, accepting Hot Neighbor Guy’s – Stiles’ – outstretched hand.

“You know, I – ” Stiles starts, but he’s cut off by a firefighter yelling, “All clear!”

People start filing into the building again, and Derek’s about to ask Stiles what he was going to say when Kate Argent is suddenly shouldering past them, knocking Stiles forward. Derek opens his mouth to snap at her for being so rude, but he freezes as he notices movement out of the corner of his eye.

Kate’s shove has managed to loosen Stiles’ towel.

Derek lunges forward without thinking, trying to salvage some measure of Stiles’ dignity. Really, though, he probably just manages to make things more awkward, because he’s only able to grab ahold of one corner of the towel and now Stiles is pressed flush against him.

“So,” Stiles says after a moment, blushing brightly. “Uh, thanks for covering my junk. With your body.”

Derek’s pretty sure he’s blushing now, too.

“I’m pretty sure that everyone in the building’s seen my ass now, though,” Stiles continues, and Derek becomes suddenly aware that although one of his hands is on Stiles’ fluffy purple towel, the other’s resting on the small of his back. Right above his bare ass.

“Shit, sorry, I’ll – ” Derek stutters, somehow managing to tear his hand away from Stiles’ skin and fumbling with the towel, trying to secure it around Stiles’ hips again.

“You know, I don’t usually let a guy get this far unless he’s bought me dinner first,” Stiles interrupts, smiling coyly.

Derek stares at him for a moment.

“I have pizza upstairs,” Derek says, really hoping that Stiles is implying what he thinks he’s implying.

“What kind?” Stiles asks, a considering expression on his face.

“Hawaiian,” Derek replies, praying that it’s an acceptable answer.

“I’ll be over in five,” Stiles answers, grinning brightly. “Just let me get some clothes.”

“Don’t trouble yourself on my account,” Derek says, making Stiles laugh and punch his shoulder playfully.

“Hey, what sort of guy do you take me for?” Stiles asks, but his tone is light, not offended.

“One who just flashed his ass to our entire building,” Derek replies, doing his best to make his voice dry, but he’s unable to entirely suppress his grin.

“Watch it or I’ll reconsider my offer.” Stiles pauses. “Actually, that’s a lie. You’re hot and offering me pizza.”

“It’s nice to know that your affections are so easily bought,” Derek replies.

Stiles laughs and then sashays back into the building. Derek watches his towel-clad ass on their entire trek up the three flights of stairs.

—-

The doorbell rings.

Derek hurries to answer it, maybe a little overeager, but Stiles is supposed to come over for their fourth date right around now, and he can’t help but be excited about that. However, he’s disappointed as he opens the door to find Kate Argent standing on the other side, holding what looks like a fruit basket.

“Hello,” he says, unsure what an appropriate response is to finding the building’s resident arsonist on your doorstep with a fruit basket.

"Derek! It’s been a while," she replies, smiling that mildly unnerving smile of hers.

"It has been," Derek says neutrally, instead of just asking, _What the fuck do you want?_ He can be polite.

"Now I know that everyone’s a little frustrated with me," she continues, and Derek just barely manages to hold in a snort at that, "but I promise I’m working things out. I just want to apologize to you for the inconveniences I’ve caused."

She holds out the fruit basket, which Derek accepts awkwardly.

"Thank you," Derek says tentatively, eyeing the basket suspiciously. It seems normal at least.

"Well, that’s all I wanted to say," Kate replies, beaming at him, although there’s a glint in her eyes which unnerves him. "Goodbye."

"Bye," Derek echoes absently as she tuns away.

He walks back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. He meanders on over to the kitchen, still inspecting the basket, but in the end he deems it harmless and places it on the far counter.

Then the doorbell rings again and he promptly forgets about it.

—-

The fire alarm blares to life right as Stiles works a hand into the front of Derek’s pants.

"Should we - ?" Stiles asks, panting a little as he breaks the kiss, his grip on Derek’s cock loosening.

"It’s probably just Kate again," Derek replies, moving in to catch Stiles’ mouth in another deep kiss.

Derek revels in the moan that Stiles lets out as he scrapes his teeth over Stiles’ bottom lip, grabbing ahold of Stiles’ ass and hitching him further up into his lap. He reaches down to pop open the button on Stiles’ jeans and pull down his fly, trailing teasing fingers over the outline of Stiles’ cock, still trapped in his underwear.

"I thought you said she only cooked at weird hours," Stiles says, breaking away again, much to Derek’s disappointment. "It’s normal-person dinnertime."

"Maybe she’s changing things up," Derek suggests, pressing his palm against Stiles’ dick, drawing a needy gasp from him. "She brought me a fruit basket today."

"A fruit basket?" Stiles asks, once he regains enough of his mental function.

"You didn’t get one?" Derek replies, brow furrowing in confusion. He thought that Kate was apologizing to everyone. Then again, she doesn’t seem to like Stiles all that much.

"No, I - " Stiles starts, but he cuts himself off abruptly. "Do you smell smoke?"

"Yeah," Derek replies as he takes a deep breath, suddenly worried.

Stiles pushes off of him and stumbles out of his lap, his jeans still undone. Derek follows him in the direction of the kitchen, but he freezes once he gets a good look at what’s going on inside.

His fruit basket is on fire. It also happens to be sitting right under his very wooden cabinets.

"Shit," he hisses, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and pulling him towards the door. "We need to get out of here."

They dash out of the apartment as quickly as they can, but large clouds of black smoke are already billowing out of the kitchen by the time they get into the hallway. From there it would be a mad dash to the stairs, but Derek insists on banging on as many other apartment doors as possible, yelling, “Fire!” He knows he’s not the only one who’s gotten complacent.

Then they’re finally stumbling down the stairs and out of the building, panting, jeans undone and lips undoubtedly swollen from kissing. Stiles’ neck is sporting a large hickey, too.

"Holy shit, she tried to _kill_ you!” Stiles exclaims, looking at Derek with wide eyes. “With a fruit basket!”

"Actually, I think she tried to kill _us_ ,” Derek replies before marching over to a firefighter already on the scene.

A few hours later, Kate Argent’s being pushed into the back of a police car and phrases like “self igniting chemicals” and “attempted murder” are flying around. Kate looks livid, and Derek decides that if he ever has to see her again, it’ll be too soon.

"Well, on the bright side, no more late night fire alarms," Stiles says, his tone simultaneously cheery and awkward.

"How can you be so fucking casual about this?" Derek asks, staring at Stiles incredulously. "She nearly _murdered_ us.”

"I’m kind of trying to ignore it, actually," Stiles admits, and although he sounds mostly nonchalant, Derek can hear an undertone of anxiety in his voice. "I think it’ll start catching up to me later."

Derek lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and wraps his arms around Stiles pulling him close.

"When I start actually freaking out, we should have awesome ‘holy fuck we nearly died’ sex," Stiles murmurs against Derek’s neck, clinging to him just a little too tightly.

"Thanks, by the way," Derek says, hands clutching at the fabric of Stiles’ shirt. "You probably saved my life today."

"Yeah, well, I kind of like you," Stiles teases, but his words make Derek’s heart flutter a little in his chest.

"I kind of like you, too," Derek replies, making Stiles let out a snort of laughter.

"You should crash at my place tonight," Stiles says, making Derek grimace a little as he remembers the image of his flaming kitchen. "Unless it got consumed by fire, too, in which case we’re kind of out of luck."

"We could probably stay with my sister," Derek suggests, although he’s not exactly looking forward to telling Laura about today’s fire incident. As soon as she knows, the entire family will undoubtedly know.

"Ooooh, so we’ve already progressed to the ‘meet the family’ stage?" Stiles jokes, grinning up at Derek.

"You did just tell me that you kind of like me," Derek replies, cracking a smile.

They do end up staying at Laura’s. She and Stiles hit it off and Derek briefly wonders if burning alive in his kitchen would have been less painful than listening to Laura telling Stiles his most embarrassing childhood stories.

—-

The fire alarm is silent for a whole seven months. Then Kira Yukimura in apartment 390 accidentally creates a minor electrical fire.

Derek and Stiles stumble out of their shared shower and out onto the cold sidewalk. Thankfully no one loses their towel this time.

Well, at least not while they’re outside.

**Author's Note:**

> _I do not give permission to have any of my works put up on goodreads or any other such site._


End file.
